The Inscrutable Reason for Living

The dark clouds from the window seem almost a reflection of my own life. Never have I felt so like more like wandering to those very same clouds and plummeting down in a deep delicious fall to the ground. Life, they say, is very vast. But how is it that living it in a coffin makes it so unbearably small? You try and claw your way for air, you scratch the walls of the coffin as much as you can, but you are stuck. Barred. Buried. A pidgin midget masquerading as a monster. That's what life is!

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